Pool Games
by PinStripes3030
Summary: Jeff plays pool. Annie cheers for him. Oh, and Simmons sucks.


Jeff Winger never expected his life to turn out the way it did.

He never expected to play billiards naked. He also never expected to atomic wedgie a community college bully. In fact, he never expected – hell, could not possibly imagine - any of the dozen nonsensical events that now comprise his daily life.

But of all the happenings at Greendale, Annie Edison was the furthest from the strange, and that in itself might be the strangest of all.

* * *

Jeff knew he was good at billiards.

He wasn't cut for ESPN2 greatness, but he held enough skill in the game to be the king fish in the small pond that was Greendale Community.

He shouldn't have felt as proud as he did.

It was just _pool_.

It was just _Greendale._

But winning is winning and it felt _damn_ good.

* * *

After Greendale Community, he defeated the resident douche bags from Greendale City College. He drubbed them so badly that one of them, Simmons' henchmen from debate, burst into tears afterward.

Delicious.

Simmons' fat crocodile tears would have tasted so much better, but Jeff wouldn't complain.

* * *

Still, small fish and small pond, because here he stood, representing Greendale Community in its first Division One tournament in -well, _anything- _and he was choking horribly in the scrub round to a pimply faced Vietnamese kid.

But regardless, pimples or no pimples, the two-legged red eruption was running the table at a four-ball streak and counting.

Jeff glanced toward his cheering section.

His section was one row strong; a life line of Greendale Community Blue floating in the black hole of Greendale State black and silver.

He could see Senor Chang, the principal, Michelle Slater, and the entirety of his billiards class, but out of his friends, only Britta and Shirley.

Four friends down.

The stupid powers that be had overlapped Troy's football game with his tournament match. And because football is '_football'_ and billiards is _only_ billiards, the group reached a unanimous decision to split the people 3-2 in favor of Troy.

Jeff could care less about the size of his cheering section. He would have traded all the hangers on (minus Michelle) for all his friends, a decent shot angle in a heartbeat, and a twinkie in a heartbeat.

And damn it, the future Proactive failure story was sprinting toward the finish line, only three balls away from qualifying for round two.

Senor Chang looked asian-ashamed.

Michelle gazed at him with wide eyed pity.

Shirley's hands were covering her eyes like one does in a horror movie before the chainsaw comes down.

Britta was nowhere to be found, probably off to chain chew her nicotine gum.

The rest he didn't really care.

Jeff just wanted the match and his humiliation at the hands of the Vietnamese kid to be over.

But then, he saw Annie.

She walked into the auditorium at the ground level, somehow muscling her mousy frame to the front of the crowd. She was holding a large poster board underneath her arms and when she lifted it above her head, he was astonished by what she had written.

'_**F'm deaf Jeff'**_

Rhyme over clarity, he guessed.

The letters were large and shiny and sparkly and looked like as if a unicorn had vomited alphabet soup from one corner of the sign to the other.

One part of him (before Greendale) would be embarrassed to see something so _flagrant_ being associated to his name.

The other part of him - the part that would break a light sweat because of her Bambi eyes and good friend-ness - appreciated that she bothered to make a sign in the first place.

He would have felt very conflicted, but when Annie started cheering in that very _Annie _way, the argument was rendered moot.

Annie is awesome.

The sign belongs to Annie.

By association, the sign is awesome.

So when some Greendale State jerk face snatched the sign from Annie's grasp and threw it into the crowd, Jeff mustered all his learned patience to not storm over and smash the pool cue, thick side up, through jerkface's face.

But when he turned to Annie, he was surprised to find that the home crowd douchebaggery had not affected her one bit.

And to his horrified amazement, Annie had devolved into showing her support by _dancing_, transforming into a spinning blur of akimbo arms and twirling legs and head bobs.

Her dance looked like the grotesque lovechild of a three way between her moves on Halloween, the Gravy Train leaving the station, and Elaine Bennis from Seinfeld.

But she danced without a thought of herself.

All of _her_ was focused on _him_.

Leave it to Annie to dance so unselfishly.

Jeff took a deep breath.

So help him, if the Vietnamese kid missed even _one_ shot, he would sink _something_ just for her dance alone.

Then, the crowd _gasped._

And holy crap - by some divine intervention by Community College God, the Vietnamese Kid missed.

Lining up his shot and thinking of Annie, Jeff sunk his first ball.

Not surprisingly, he sunk all the rest.

* * *

Annie made him a brand new sign and came to all his matches - as did all his friends.

Round Two was cake.

Rounds Three and Four were pie.

He received a scare in the Quarters.

* * *

His big scare in the quarterfinals came from a woman who sported a pink Mohawk.

Jeff had just finished calling the 8-ball shot and was lining up when a cell phone ring from the crowd caused a miss hit and near scratch.

The cue ball hit one bumper, then another, and was spinning slowly toward a pocket when he heard a blood curdling scream from the audience.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Annie, of course.

And again, by some miracle, the cue ball slowed down, stopping short of falling into the side pocket.

Pink Mohawk, with the most cocky smile plastered on her goofy ring pierced face, proceed to sink two shots, the final one an impressive backward spin into the corner.

The crowd roared in approval.

And after the crowd died down…

"Meeehhhhhhhhh!" came from one person: loud, and clear, and completely unimpressed.

Annie.

Finally, when Pink Mohawk missed and Jeff sunk his winning shot…

"YAYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

* * *

Semis were a sleeper.

The final was epic.

Nothing close to his naked match at Greendale, but what could be?

Oh, he won the finals – triumphing over the defending champ, Ben Simmons of Greendale Sacred Cross, big brother of Jeremy Simmons.

Telling Simmons to '_suck it' _over and over againmade the victory oh so much sweeter.

* * *

Annie's voice came on the PA system a few minutes later.

"After party at Greendale Community later tonight! _Runners up, _are more than welcome."

And as she led the crowd of Greendale Community faithful in a rousing chant of '_Simmons Sucks', _Jeff thought about his first year at Greendale, and tried to imagine what the next three would bring.

More strange.

Probably more non-sensical.

And more Annie.

_Bring it._

_

* * *

_

_**THE END.**_

_**Inspired by the finale, of course. Had a beast of a time trying to end this story. Cut a whole half (party at Greendale) just because it read like a whole new story. Hope you enjoyed! Team Annie (and Conan).**_


End file.
